


Grind

by OzQueen



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Related, F/M, Frottage, Making Out, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ned sprains his ankle, Nancy takes the afternoon off to keep him entertained.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grind

**Author's Note:**

> My first Nancy Drew fic, eek. Written for porn battle xiv and set during Files #3 Murder on Ice. Instead of going to the lake after Ned sprains his ankle, he and Nancy have a quiet afternoon in, instead. Because who'd go ice skating instead of making out with Ned, I mean, come on, Nancy. Priorities.

Nancy shivered, despite the roaring fire in the grate. She turned back to Ned and squeezed his hand. “Are you sure you're all right?”

“It doesn't hurt that much,” Ned promised, but he scowled down at his ankle, propped up on a cushion at the end of the red plaid couch. “I can't believe this, though,” he groaned. “I guess I'll be stuck on the couch for the next few days while you hit the slopes.”

“Skiing is about the last thing I want to do right now,” Nancy admitted. She laced her fingers tightly through his. “How would you feel about a cozy afternoon in?” she asked.

Ned looked at her suspiciously. “While you go out and search for clues?”

She rolled her eyes and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Don't tempt me.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “You know,” he said, “I'd say it was just an accident, but things are never so simple when you're around.” 

Nancy grimaced and wriggled alongside him on the couch, resting her cheek against his shoulder, the soft fibres of his sweater tickling her skin. “I'm just glad you're all right,” she murmured. 

“Well,” Ned drawled, “I'm not so sure. I mean, it _does_ hurt some.” 

Nancy looked up at him and raised her eyebrow. “Oh yes?”

“You know,” he added thoughtfully, “when I woke up after the crash, I seem to remember you kissing me, and the pain being much easier to tolerate.” 

“I wouldn't want you to start relying on any sort of pain relief,” Nancy said. “I think it's best you just grin and bear it, Nickerson.” 

He growled and pulled her up against him, and she laughed and kissed him sweetly. 

“Better?” she asked.

“I'd prefer a higher dosage.” 

She cupped his face in her hands, his skin cool, stubble prickly against her fingertips. The tip of his nose was still cold from the frigid air outside, but his mouth was warm, his lips just slightly chapped and rough against hers. 

“Mm,” Ned sighed approvingly, his hand spanning wide between Nancy's shoulder blades. “You're a very good nurse.” 

“It helps having a handsome patient,” she said.

“I can even forgive the fact you're not in a little uniform.” His voice was only slightly wistful. 

She grinned and lifted herself over him, straddling one of his thighs. “Maybe we can talk about that when it's a little warmer.” 

“I bet you think I’m going to forget you ever said that,” Ned murmured, “but I won't.” 

She kissed him again, her stomach clenching a little as she remembered the way he'd been thrown into the snow. He had looked dead when she'd reached him; an awful reminder that taking on a mystery came with very real dangers sometimes. 

“I'm sorry,” Nancy whispered, tracing her thumb down Ned's nose. “When Liz asked me to look into things, I didn't think it would escalate like this...”

“I know.” Ned tucked a lock of her red-gold hair behind her ear, tugging gently. “Funny how you're never worried about danger when _you're_ in the firing line.”

“That's what I have you for,” she answered. “You worry about me, and I worry about you.” 

“Ah,” he said. “So that's how it works.” His lips brushed against the end of her nose and he smiled up at her. “My ankle still hurts.” He thrust his lower lip out in a mock pout.

Nancy laughed and leaned over him, sucking against his lip lightly before she opened her mouth, touching her tongue against his as goose-flesh rose on her skin. Ned's hands cupped her hips and slowly he drew her close against him. She could feel the warmth of his thigh between her legs, and a sudden shiver ran sharp down her spine.

“Cold?” Ned asked softly.

Nancy shook her head, the ends of her hair brushing Ned's cheeks. “No, I’m okay.” 

He kissed her again, and this time he was firmer, his hands pulling her close against him. When she followed his movements, when she urged herself forward, she found herself grinding down against his thigh, a warm flush rising on her cheeks, pulsing between her legs. 

Nancy's heart skipped a beat as she moved again and her thigh pressed against a hard, hot heat between Ned's legs. Sweat prickled on her palms and against her scalp, and she found herself wondering just how long it would be before someone staggered in off the slopes, seeking hot chocolate, to find them entwined on the couch. 

“Ned,” she whispered. She looked down at him, her hands laid flat against his chest beneath her. “We should stop.”

He nodded slowly, but his eyes were heavy-lidded, his gaze on her mouth, and he rocked ever-so-slightly up against her, the pressure between her legs teasing and electric. She could feel the heat in her face and she knew her eyes were bright; could feel her fingers trembling; could hear her breath hitch and drag in her throat.

“Nancy...” Ned whispered her name and his voice was rough, she could still feel the hard length of him against her thigh, and when his fingers brushed over the hollow behind her ear, she swayed towards him again. Ned's breath rushed smooth against her cheek and one hand slipped under the hem of her sweater, cold fingertips skating over the small of her back. 

She kissed him again, open, deep, and opened her legs a little more. She rocked her hips slowly and felt her heartbeat thud between her thighs, heard Ned groan something soft and low. She rocked again, a cheap pantomime of what she really wanted, what Ned really wanted, but what neither of them dared reach for.

Somewhere, a door slammed, but neither of them looked up, relying on the high back of the couch to hide them from immediate view. Nancy rocked hard against Ned's thigh and whimpered, clenched her fingers hard into his sweater, his chest warm and hard under her hands. 

She pictured him lying crumpled in the snow again, pale and lifeless, and cupped his face in her hands, shivering when his teeth caught her lip, panting when his fingers combed roughly through her hair, his thumb glancing over her earlobe. She ground down hard against him, seeking friction and pressure, rocked against his thigh. Ned surged towards her and his hands reached for her, his fingers digging into her hips, pulling her down towards him. 

“Ned,” Nancy gasped. She curled her fingers over his shoulders and grazed her teeth against his jaw, thrust her hips again. She was so close to the edge – she could feel her heart jolting and thumping in her chest, her blood pulsing. 

Ned's hand cupped the back of Nancy's head, his tongue flicked against her lips. His breath was rough and she could feel his chest falling and rising beneath her. His hips were rolling up against hers, his thigh sliding and pressing between her legs until Nancy's breath caught in her throat. She arched silently, gripping Ned's shoulders, and his eyes were wide and dark below her as his hands pulled her down against him again, rocking her back and forth against his thigh as she shuddered and gasped, sweat fine and gleaming on her skin.

Ned rocked against her again, he was still hard and hot against her thigh, his body warm and firm beneath her, and Nancy buried her face against his neck, breathing hard until he gasped her name loudly and jerked beneath her.

She slumped against him, trying to catch her breath. She listened to the pounding of her heart in her ears and felt Ned's pulse jumping against her brow, his skin warm and damp against hers. The fire crackled quietly beside them and the wind blew against the windows, stirring the snow against the glass.

Ned's fingers slipped through Nancy's hair and he shifted slightly, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head. “You okay?” he asked softly.

Nancy let out a low laugh, her cheeks red, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “Yeah.” She traced a fingertip along Ned's jaw and sighed contentedly. “Now, Mr. Nickerson,” she murmured, “I will hear no complaints when I start chasing leads tomorrow, do you understand?”

“I suppose I could let you go,” he drawled, trailing his hand over the small of her back and cupping her hip. “My ankle does feel a lot better now.” 

Nancy grinned and buried her face against his neck. “Glad to hear it,” she whispered. “It'll be easier knowing you don't mind being stuck on the couch so much.” 

“My opinion of the couch has increased somewhat,” Ned murmured against the top of her head. “But I'll still be counting the minutes until you get back.” 

She pressed a warm kiss against his cheek. “Me too.”


End file.
